


Interrogation Techniques for Beginners

by StrangerInAStrangePlace



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: I'm not really sure how to tag this, M/M, Mild Blood, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8107117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerInAStrangePlace/pseuds/StrangerInAStrangePlace
Summary: "Hanging in there, Buck?" Steve called out. Bucky was hanging with his back to him, but Steve could practically feel the eyeroll. "That supposed to be funny, Rogers?" Steve and Bucky make terrible hostages.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have several pieces I'm trying to complete at the moment, but this popped into my head at work earlier and I decided to run with it. This might be crack, it's kind of hard to tell, and it doesn't really fit into any sort of canon, so let's just say it takes place in some indeterminate point in the future where Steve and Bucky have been brought back into the Avengers because *handwave.*
> 
> Unbetaed as fuck because I just typed it up quick. I take full responsibility for any typos, errors, and the fact that it's approximately 97% dialogue.

For a moment there was silence, and then the sound of a whip cracked through the air. Bucky, who had been mostly silent up until this point, arched his back and let out a howl. Steve winced from his position on the floor, but gritted his teeth and kept his mouth shut. Their captors eyed him, assessing, and looked back at where Bucky hung loosely from the chains attached to a hook in the ceiling.

 

"We'll give you some time to think it over," one of the goons said finally, and they shuffled out, slamming the door behind them.

 

"Don't need it!" Steve called after them, and shifted to take some of the pressure off his recently broken legs. "Bastards," he muttered.

 

With their hosts gone, Steve took some time to appraise their situation. Dark room, check. Probably underground. Cement walls and an iron door, _obviously._ Whips and chains, both predictable _and_ weirdly kinky. No marks for creativity there, though Steve had to admit that they'd gotten the jump on both him and Bucky, and that took some doing. Then again, he wasn't feeling particularly generous, and when you got right down to it, sneaking up behind a guy and managing to knock him over the head wasn't all that impressive. Effective, maybe. But not impressive.

 

"Hanging in there, Buck?" Steve called out. Bucky was hanging with his back to him, but Steve could practically feel the eyeroll.

 

"That supposed to be funny, Rogers?"

 

Steve's smile was grim. "I thought it was pretty good, myself."

 

"That's because you're a sick man."

 

"You're not wrong." Steve paused. "Seriously. You okay?"

 

No answer.

 

"Bucky. Talk to me."

 

"I'm fine, Steve. Jesus."

 

"Then say so!"

 

"Sorry, Dad."

 

Now it was Steve's turn to roll his eyes. "Are you in pain?"

 

"Course I'm in pain, Stevie, that's the point of torture." He paused, testing the chains around his wrists. "All told, I can honestly say I've had worse. Legs?"

 

"Healing." Steve shifted again, wincing in pain as he felt his bones slowly knitting themselves back together. "They're not quite there yet, though."

 

"Don't need your legs to break the cuffs though, do you?"

 

"I didn't want to bust them too early. Gotta wait for the right moment, you know? Element of surprise."

 

"I'm pretty sure you just want to make a grand entrance out of it, you drama queen."

 

"Element of surprise," Steve insisted, and Bucky snorted. "Arm still dead?"

 

"Yeah." The word came out as more of a growl. "What the hell did they do, jam a screwdriver up there while I was out? These guys have no finesse."

 

"I didn't see, Buck, I was a little too busy getting my damn legs broken."

 

"That's your own fault. Too busy swooning over my unconscious body, Scarlett O'Hara."

 

"Right, sorry for wasting my time making sure you still had a _pulse."_

 

"Oh please." Bucky twisted his head around, trying to look over his shoulder. "How bad does it look?"

 

"Are you asking if I still think you're beautiful?"

 

Bucky did his best to glare at him. "When we get out of here I'm gonna kill you myself."

 

"You haven't yet."

 

"Yet." Bucky shook his head impatiently, trying in vain to push his long hair out of his eyes.

 

Steve gave a long look at the slashes that marred Bucky's naked back. A few of the marks were already beginning to heal, but they'd been torn open repeatedly, and the fresher ones were still bleeding freely. "Your back _is_ pretty torn up, Buck."

 

"Yeah, well, guess that's what happens. Cat of nine tails, you kidding me? Think we can take that one off the list of toys for the bedroom."

 

"Did we ever have it on the list to begin with?"

 

"I mean, I didn't."

 

"Then why would you think I did?"

 

"Hey, I'm not here to judge." Bucky's voice carried the smirk that Steve couldn't see from his spot on the floor.

 

Steve stretched a leg experimentally. Still painful, though better than before, but he couldn't suppress a hiss of pain, and Bucky started, attempting to turn himself around without much success.

 

"What's wrong? What is it?" he demanded. Steve swallowed hard against the ache.

 

"Just testing my legs again," he said with a bit of a pant. "They're better than before. If we're lucky, I'll be on my feet by the time they come back."

 

"If they were smart, they would've broken them again before they left." Bucky nodded, like a prophet imparting wisdom to his loyal followers. "That's what I would've done."

 

"Oh good, that's comforting," Steve said, tone dry.

 

"I'm just saying, you can't take the super strength into consideration and then forget about the super healing that comes with it. That's just careless, Steve. They obviously didn't do the homework."

 

"Amateurs."

 

"Kids these days." Bucky sighed, and the sound turned into a groan. He let his head drop to his chest. "Fuck, I wish I could sit down. My shoulders are killing me."

 

"I'll give you a massage once we get home."

 

"Now you're talking."

 

Neither spoke for several moments. Steve tested his legs periodically, noting the spots that were still tender and trying to decide if they'd healed enough for him to actually put his weight on them. The right was still in pretty bad shape, but the left had been a clean break and seemed to be progressing considerably faster. He pushed a heel into the ground and attempted to push himself up; for a moment his vision went white around the edges and he collapsed back down against the concrete. Not yet, he reasoned. But soon. To pass the time, or maybe to distract himself from the pain, he said, "Here's my question."

 

"Oh God, here we go," Bucky muttered.

 

"They decided to torture you to get me to talk. They assumed I was the one who know where to find the doctor. Why does everyone assume I'm the one who knows everything?"

 

"You know, I was thinking that! I'm the one who spent 70 years with HYDRA. Doctor Roberts and I were _very_ well-acquainted. You're not even gonna _ask?"_

 

"If it were me, I'd assume you had picked up a thing or two."

 

"It's not like they don't know who I am. I'm kind of insulted, frankly." Bucky paused, and when he spoke again, it sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "Maybe it's because you're the Star-Spangled Man with the Plan."

 

"Ugh." Steve knocked his head against the concrete wall. "You have got to let that go."

 

"Not on your life, pal. Let me have my fun."

 

"You've had a rough day, I'll let it slide this time."

 

"Thanks, Stevie, I owe you one." He paused again. "Not that I'm trying to rush you or anything, but I think I'm ready to get out of here."

 

"Right there with you." Steve pushed against the right leg again. This time, it felt like it might hold. Taking a deep breath, he twisted his arms behind him, applying pressure to the cuffs around his arms until he felt them break. Bucky grinned over his shoulder. "I like that sound."

 

"Me too." Steve put a hand on the wall and slowly levered himself up. The right leg was still mostly useless, but the left was mostly steady beneath him. Sore as hell, but he could make do. Still, that backup Bucky had mentioned would be welcome right about now; Natasha and Sam were somewhere above them, no doubt tearing apart the landscape in their absence. Hopefully it wouldn't be too much longer before they came.

 

In the meantime, he had his one good leg, and he had Bucky, and hell, he'd gone into fight with worse odds than that.

 

Using the wall as support, Steve made his way over to Bucky, still suspended from the ceiling. The chains were fairly standard, as chains went, and if Bucky'd had full use of both his arms they wouldn't have been a problem. Shifting his weight onto his good leg, Steve reached up and pulled them easily from the ceiling, and Bucky hissed in relief as he finally lowered his arms.

 

"Not my favorite position," he muttered as Steve pulled the links between his wrists apart. He reached up with his right hand and rubbed at the sore muscles in his shoulder. Steve started to smile but the sound of heavy footsteps down the hallway interrupted whatever he was about to say. They looked at each other, and then Bucky said, "Showtime."

 

When the doors opened, Bucky had a foot propped up against the wall and he was examining his fingernails. "Gentlemen," he said, glancing up.

 

Before they could respond, Steve moved from the spot where he'd been hiding next to the door, striking out with the very chains that had held Bucky suspended from the ceiling and catching the first goon straight in the face with one of the iron cuffs. He staggered back with a cry of pain, but Bucky had already sprung forward, grabbing good #2 by the back of the neck and slamming him into the wall with more force than was probably necessary. The first guy was coming again, and Bucky landed a punch right in his already broken nose, and Steve let himself enjoy the undignified shriek that accompanied the crunch of bone under his fist. Like he said, it _had_ been a long day.

 

All told, it was pretty anticlimactic, as these things tended to be, and even more so when Natasha and Sam came rushing in not two minutes later, while Bucky was rummaging through their pockets looking for key cards or anything that might help them make their way out.

 

"We came to rescue you," Natasha deadpanned.

 

"Yeah, thank God for us, don't know how you would've managed otherwise," Sam added, taking in the unconscious forms of their captors.

 

"You missed a good time," Bucky said, hoisting himself up. "Turns out I'm not into whips and chains."

 

Sam made a choking sound. "Uh, good to know?"

 

"Steve might be, though, jury's still out on that," Bucky added, and Steve made a sound that was definitely nothing like a squawk.

 

"I _never_ said that! Don't listen to him, I never said _anything_ like that."

 

"Hey." Sam held up his hands. "What Captain America gets up to in the bedroom is none of my business. You do you, right?"

 

Steve glared at Bucky. "You're sleeping on the couch. Forever."

 

"But you promised me a massage," Bucky said, and Sam choked again.

 

"None. Of my. Business," he repeated.

 

"I could hear a little more," Natasha said, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. "You want to put a shirt on before we go, Barnes?"

 

"Sure, if you happen to have a spare," Bucky replied. "Otherwise, you're out of luck."

 

"He needs to get bandaged up anyway," Steve said from where he was leaning against the wall. "His back is a mess."

 

"Yeah, well, we could also use a wheelchair for Old Man Rogers here, with his two broken legs," Bucky shot back.

 

"My legs are fine."

 

"So's my back."

 

" _Boys_." Natasha's voice cut in. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to get out of the creepy torture basement now, so maybe you can save your bickering until we make it back to the plane."

 

"Seriously, I'm surprised they didn't give you guys back after listening to the two of you for twenty minutes," Sam griped. "Steve, can you walk on your own?"

 

Steve wanted to say yes, he really did, but his right leg was still screaming in protest, and his left wasn't faring much better. After a moment, he shook his head.

 

"C'mere," Bucky muttered, sidling up next to him and sliding an arm over his shoulder. Sam came up around his side and let Steve drape his other arm around his own shoulders. When they moved forward, Steve's sleeve brushed against one of the open lash marks and Bucky let out a hiss, brushing off Steve's apology and shifting the arm around his him ever so slightly.

 

"So what did they want?" Natasha asked as they made their way forward. "Or is this just something they do for kicks?"

 

"No kicks," Bucky said. "They were looking for Roberts."

 

"Edwards Roberts?" Sam frowned. "They don't have him."

 

"Apparently not."

 

"They seem to think he defected to our side when HYDRA fell," Steve added. "They think we're hiding him somewhere. Kept demanding that I tell them where he was."

 

"Makes sense why they would want him back." Natasha glanced back at them over her shoulder. "He has a lot of intel regarding HYDRA's inner workings, stuff that wouldn't necessarily be kept in the files. It's not good for them to have someone like that out there, especially if they're afraid he's switched sides."

 

"Think they might want to seduce him back to the dark side?" Sam asked.

 

"Or kill him to keep from talking," Natasha said. "Either way, apparently they still have to find him, which means we probably need to find him first."

 

After a long pause, Bucky said, "He had a lab. In Normandy. It wasn't the only one he worked out of, but he...favored it. Might be a good place to start."

 

"Might be," Natasha agreed, glancing at him again. "But not today. It'll keep until the next mission."

 

"Yeah," Sam added. "Besides, we gotta let these senior citizens get some rest, they've had _way_ too much excitement for one day."

 

"I'd kill someone for my bed right now, actually," Steve muttered, devoid of any irony, and Bucky actually laughed.

 

"You and me both, Stevie."


End file.
